The Sermon of Faith

 "Consider the lilies of the field." A set of scriptures from the Sermon on the Mount, starting with these words, came into my mind earlier. They're a good reminder to stop worrying or, at least, to live life more fully. Starting with these powerful words and having all of those scriptures emphasized during the final talk of our sacrament meeting today, I put the lessons into a poem. It's strange that the messages during the meeting went from the priesthood to Star Wars lessons to the Sermon on the Mount, but all of it has a basis in exercising faith. The priesthood power is activated by faith. Luke Skywalker could not blow the reactor on the Death Star until he closed his eyes and trusted in the force. And how can we have peace if we are unwilling to leave everything in God's hands and trust Him to take care of us and our circumstances?

Tomorrow often sounds dismal and dark,

And fear and control never take a rest.

Worry holds us back from moving onward.

Maybe, just maybe, closing your eyes is best.

Leaping by faith into dark paths is chancy,

But, surely, not all that is dim leads to death.

The flowers and birds are fed aplenty,

They expect nothing and are, yet, given breath.

Why fear humankind, whose lives are short?

Why not move forward from failure and scorn?

Taking a step forth is all that's required–

The words will be given, and our burdens borne.

We are in the details of a larger work,

And some days it seems we are put to the test,

If the next step looks like the deep abyss,

Maybe, just maybe, closing your eyes is best.

Rejoice with Me

Lost By the Bay

 "And he spake this parable unto them, saying,

What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine... and go after that which is lost, until he find it?

And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.

Either what woman having ten pieces of silver, if she lose one piece, doth not light a candle, and sweep the house, and seek diligently till she find it? And when she hath found it, she calleth her friends and her neighbors together, saying, Rejoice with me; for I have found the piece which I had lost" (Luke 15:3-5, 8-9).

It is easy to fall into the habit of thinking no one notices us or cares about us. It is more logical to consider the billions of people on Earth and say to ourselves, "Who am I? What good can I do? What purpose could I possibly serve among so many."

Oh, my friends, if we could only comprehend more fully how necessary we are—how marvelous, loved, and wanted we are. And I think I'm only beginning to grasp the concept.

Have you lost something important before? Something that you could probably live without, but it meant something to you? I have. In fact, I recently lost something I needed for work, and as much as I searched for it—I recleaned my bedroom, checked the bathroom just in case, looked in the dryer, checked outside, searched my car—I could not find it. And I prayed. And I prayed again. And God didn't tell me exactly where to find it right away.

It was important to me, so why didn't He just tell me? He knew where it was, didn't He?

Instead, He told me to clean my backpack and to change my bedding, and did I find it? No. But finally, when I was at breaking point and knew I had searched everywhere and had done all I could, He opened my eyes, and I found what I was looking for in the thinnest, darkest area next to a stack of towels. How did it get next to the towels?!

But it was there. And I was overcome by joy and gratitude.

And I'm pretty sure that's how Heavenly Father sees us. When we've done something wrong or feel like we aren't needed, or we wander away because people have hurt us, or maybe we feel uncomfortable around religious people because sometimes they can be too judgy, so we avoid everything relating to God, He hasn't given up on us. He could easily kick our stubborn mortal butts and tell us to get back in line, but He doesn't. He looks for us, watches for us, and then welcomes us with open arms so He can give us a big hug when we are found.

And when we return to Him, I'm sure He's saying to all of the angels, "Rejoice with me, for I have found the [one] which I had lost." 

Don't Forget the Darkness is Followed by the Dawn

One day as I was driving to work, I contemplated some of the difficult things I was dealing with—exhaustion, work, trying to fit in, my own struggle with my self-esteem, and health. The list might have continued, but as I looked at the sun coming over the mountain, it symbolized my journey. Each of us has to climb some pretty big metaphorical mountains in our lives. Sometimes, those mountains are piles of dirt and rocks, sometimes of big boulders and stones, and other times of silt and sand (those ones sound the most tiring). Do you know what’s good about mountains, though (Other than they keep tornadoes out)? Either there’s a tunnel that goes through the mountain to help you get to the other side or once you reach the top, you can look down and see the valley.

There are rough days or weeks or years, and would we like to skip out on those experiences? Of course, we would, but every day or week or year that seems to push us down in the muck isn’t the end because the end will be beautiful. And if it’s not wonderful and beautiful, it must not be the end of our journey yet. How I wish I could reverse time to ten years ago and hug Corey or Sam or Evan and tell them to hang on because the uphill hike would have something beautiful to look back on! When it gets tough, keep hanging on because whatever darkness we’re going through—whatever darkness you’re going through right now at this moment—will be followed by the dawn. The sun will come. It will come.

Some days the journey is all uphill. Often the clouds block our view.
But every tunnel in a mountain is a way to get through.
The way may seem steep, and the storm may be strong,
And maybe at times, the journey feels too long,
Every life has darkness when the sun won’t shine,
But life’s about the journey and the climb.

When you want to give up; when you’re tired and worn,
Remember how the fragrant rose wears a dozen thorns.
When you face the mountain, keep on hanging on—
Don’t forget the darkness is followed by the dawn.

It would be more peaceful to sail on calmer seas,
To drift through life in comfort while moving forth with ease.
Fewer tears, if any, would stream from heavy eyes,
And hearts would never break from an unwanted surprise.
At times, the road brings pain and our desires fade,
But after the fiery flames, comes the soothing glade.

When you want to give up; when you’re tired and worn,
Remember how the fragrant rose wears a dozen thorns.
When you face the mountain, keep on hanging on—
Don’t forget the darkness is followed by the dawn.

Never forget the darkness is followed by the dawn.

Everyday Miracles

 "There are no accidents." - Master Oogway, Kung Fu Panda

A discussion about miracles broke out at the studio where I work one day. During it, one of the guys said he hasn't seen any miracles, and surprised, I responded that I see them almost every day. He asked what they were, and I told him- the miracles I notice are the everyday sort of miracles. It's when the traffic lights turn green when I drive the speed limit, snow stops so it'll be safer to drive to church, or when the sun shines through at the right moment. It's when I'm trying to avoid someone who makes me feel uncomfortable, and other people sit beside me before that someone can. It's when I make plans to take a vacation somewhere on my bucket list, and everyone else ditches, but then, a friend says they'll go. It's when I'm feeling down, and a friend sends me a random message or a neighbor brings something over.

These are the sort of things my coworker said he thought were coincidences in his own life. However, growing up, I've heard from many sources, from psychology to the words of prophets and apostles (and even in science not focused on the big bang randomization theory) that there are no coincidences. And I believe that point of view. Maybe there are some small coincidences now and then like our favorite color is blue-green or maybe you like grilled cheese sandwiches as much as I do, but when the happy accidents in our lives happen, I don't believe those are accidents.

And if there are coincidences like my friend thinks, couldn't coincidences be miracles too?

A Gift for All

 Christmas is coming up, and the holiday season often feels chaotic with everything going on. One of the major parts for most of us, I think, is the giving and receiving of gifts.

This past week, I had the opportunity to watch the opening two episodes of The Chosen. I've mentioned the show in a past blog post, and if anyone is unfamiliar with it, I recommend watching it. It's about Christ's ministry and the first twelve apostles. The episodes pick up with Christ's sermon on the mount, the infamous beatitude chapters. There were two parts that stuck out to me clearly, which I've pondered on for many days. The first is about how the Sermon on the Mount was a message for all. There is something in there for everyone. I always tried gleaming as much as possible from it and tried to follow all of the messages at once, whether I needed it at that time or not, but after this past week, I realized that every message, every verse, everything truly good that I read or listen to has a message for me. He said as He has said many times throughout the scriptures, to not be anxious or worried, and that's definitely a message I need.

I've heard that when one writes or gives a speech, to write it or direct it toward one or two individuals. I wonder if Jesus did this when preparing the sermon. Did He think about His disciples? Was there a specific person He considered at the time? Or did he think about all of us- past and future- and say it all at once?

The second thing that stuck out to me was when He sent the twelve out as his apostles. He told them to take nothing with them, and when they questioned Him, He said that He wanted them to rely more on Heavenly Father. How often have I tried to do everything on my own? Honestly, it has been more than I should have. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin" (Matthew 6:28). If our Heavenly Father has taken care of all that's on the earth, why wouldn't He watch over and help us?

I think that what He's telling us is to slow down, learn from Him, and focus. He has a gift to give us, and He wants us to hold on long enough to receive that gift- to slow down, stop worrying, and trust in Him. Our Heavenly Father will watch over us, and there's a message and a gift for each of us.

Our Own Gifts

 A movie came out not long ago that many have already heard about. It's called Encanto and is a Disney movie. It isn't my favorite movie and might not even make the top ten, but besides the music, there is one thing I love about it. Every person in la Familia Madrigal has a unique gift, meant to bless others. It's a part of what makes each member unique, even the main character, Mirabel, who thinks she is "giftless." Sure, some gifts are more prevalent than others. There's a flower-producing character, a super-strong sister, a cousin that can change into other people, the main character's mother who can heal people with food, and an aunt that affects the weather. 

But it's not those gifts that I noticed. Mirabel's parents stand up for her when Abuela thinks she's in the way. Cousin Camillo looks out for Mirabel. Tio Bruno gives up using his gift of foresight to protect Mirabel from becoming ostracized. Cousin Antonio has a great love for her, looking up to Mirabel as an older sister. And Mirabel, though she doesn't realize it, has a bit of foresight like Bruno, interacts with animals like Antonio, and has the ability to bring her family together, not to mention the courage she shows. Some gifts were more visible than others, but everyone had a gift or talent to share.

Earlier, I was reading about Christ's visit to his disciples after his resurrection. A handful of them went fishing without luck, and Christ called to them from the shore, telling them to throw their nets on the other side of the boat. When they realized it was the Lord on the beach, they hurried to him and shared a meal. At the end of the chapter, after Jesus asks Peter three times "Do you love me?" and Peter answers him, Jesus foretells Peter's ministry and death. And then Peter asks the Lord about John. I can imagine him saying,

"Lord, it's good that I get to be a teacher and serve the people here. I'm sorry I came back to fish, but I will do better. I will do what you ask of me from now on. By the way, what will John be doing? Will he be doing the same thing, too?"

And Jesus answers, "Does it matter? He has his own responsibility. I was talking to you not him."

Often, I'm caught up in the idea that I need to be doing what others are doing. Many people my age already have careers. Some of them have families. Some are married, living in houses, and seem to have life figured out already. But I think of those words, "He [she] has his [her] own responsibility. I was talking to you," and I think about how each of the Familia Madrigal had gifts and talents that were unique. What others are doing or how they're doing it should not affect how I live or what I do. Each of us is on our own path, and the Lord has different assignments for each of us. Our unique talents and responsibilities make us special, and those gifts don't have to be magical. It's okay if they're simple talents or gifts. Because every gift is necessary.

The Hidden Heroes

 Do you know that story of Ammon and the king's flocks? That one where Ammon joins the Lamanite king's servants to take the animals to the watering hole, and some mean Lamanite guys scare the animals because they wanted to see the king's servants get into trouble? 

There's something I missed before, all of the many times I've read this account in the scriptures. Following the scattering of the flocks, the servants weep because the king will kill them like their brethren before. Ammon comforts them and instructs them to gather the flocks while he contends with the troublemakers. His life is preserved, and he defeats a bunch of vicious guys on his own (Book of Mormon, Alma 17-18).

I have read that the king had killed his servants before, but when the king wonders if Ammon is God, it came to me: Why was Ammon sent at this time to the Lamanites instead of at an earlier time? If he had left his land earlier, he could have saved many more servants from the wrath of the king, right?

Maybe there are two reasons for this: first, maybe those servants with Ammon needed to fear for their lives and be at the depths of humility before they could trust Ammon and the gospel message he wished to share with them, and second, righteous fathers were needed to raise those stripling warriors that came later in the war chapters. Unlike their brethren before, the servants with Ammon were saved just as much as Ammon was, and they became converted to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. 

Some of those servants probably are the fathers mentioned that sent provisions to their sons on the battlefield, not mentioned as often as the mothers of the stripling warriors (Alma 53-58), but they are there.

Just maybe we are saved for greater purposes than we see now. I'm sure the servants of the king were ecstatic to be alive, but they did not know that one day they, too, would be instruments in the hands of the Lord to bring good to pass. Maybe, just maybe, we are like those servants, hidden in the pages of an account and overlooked later on, but even the hidden heroes are still heroes. 

And if that's so, I'm okay to be a hidden hero.

Wrong Roads

 

Whenever I drive past the Provo, Utah temple for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I see an old, orange truck that reminds me of a message Jeffrey R. Holland shared once. Here's the link for the video of it if you're interested: https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media/video/2013-09-0016-wrong-roads?lang=eng.

I've always liked the story and could somewhat relate to it, of course, but recently, it became more relevant.

Holland told of a time when he took his son to visit some spots in Southern Utah, but as they planned to return home before dark, they came upon a fork in the road. Choosing the wrong road meant that they might end up in a destination far from where they had planned (home), so not knowing which road was the road home, they prayed together and consulted. Both Jeffrey R. Holland and his son felt that they should take a certain road, so they drove down it for a couple of miles and came to a dead end. Knowing that it was not the correct road after all, they turned around and went down the other road. 

His son asked why they had felt prompted to go down the dead-end road if it wasn't the right one, to which Jeffrey R. Holland suggested that perhaps, it was so that they might know with assurance which path was correct. 

A little over a year ago, I began using a bullet journal to plan every week. I got into the habit, and I've accomplished more with it than I ever have by not planning. Sometimes, I even have backup and backup-backup plans because if we don't plan, we lose sight of our dreams. 

And then, something happened that made me feel like I had reached a deadend. Actually, I had reached several dead ends. I was in a rat maze where every path I tried going down was a deadend, but my newest stumbling block was something that I was confident I could get over easily. 

That's not what happened. I made four or five different plans, knowing that I could make it down one of those roads, and then, every single plan failed until I was left hopeless and wondering why I had been allowed to go down each of these paths in the first place.

Wednesday last week, I saw that little orange truck again, and as I thought about it, I realized that maybe, I had not been allowed to act on those plans so that I would fail but that I could succeed with confidence when I came to the correct road.

God expects us to "be believing and not give up, and not panic and not retreat and not jump ship when something doesn't seem to be going just right. We stay in. We keep working" (Jeffrey R. Holland).

And if we do stay in and keep working, everything will work out just fine in the end.

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/media/video/2013-09-0016-wrong-roads?lang=eng.

Hardened, Softened, or Creative?

 

Doesn't it sometimes feel like we are fighting a neverending war of opinions? I have surely felt so over the past year and a half. Certainly, when the new pandemic hit and caused businesses to shut down and lives to change, it was a trial, but when I saw the lack of self-control as people mobbed grocery stores, maltreated minorities and police officers, and threw tantrums about the political race, I couldn't help but pity humankind in general. Many people allowed the circumstances to change them into ravaging, uncultured beasts, while others allowed their hearts to soften and did their best to help those who needed help. 

Alma 62 in the Book of Mormon, verse 41 addresses what happened among the people when they faced one of their longer wars: "But behold, because of the exceedingly great length of the war between the Nephites and the Lamanites many had become hardened, because of the exceedingly great length of the war; and many were softened because of their afflictions, insomuch that they did humble themselves before God, even in the depth of humility."

Isn't it interesting how some people can harden their hearts during affliction, while some soften their hearts? We're all going through afflictions, sometimes the same afflictions, but we respond differently.

I tried finding the direct source for a parable I once heard, but only found an anonymous contribution, and it also seems like whoever told me the parable changed the coffee beans to cacao beans, but so be it. The parable, to summarize, is about eggs, carrots, and cacao beans that were each boiled. When pulled from the water, the eggs had become hardened, the carrots had become soft, and the water was changed by the cacao beans. Each item underwent the same circumstances: boiling water. Each item reacted differently. 

When we face afflictions, do we become hard like the eggs and no longer let others in our hearts? Are we like the carrots and become soft, allowing the circumstances to humble us? Or are we like the chocolate, changing our circumstances and making something good out of our trials? 

Merciful God Poems

After learning more about the Atonement of Jesus Christ and feeling Christ's mercy in my own life, I awoke this morning with a powerful feeling of joy. It has been months since I felt like I deserved His grace (feelings of pride, anger, stress, depression, and anxiety, as well as other things, can often make us feel that way), but I experienced the same sentiment that the penman of Amazing Grace must have felt. The first poem is from a month and a half ago, more or less, and the second from this morning.

Grace

It makes no sense logically

That God would give His Son for me,

A sinner, a being wicked and impure,

That I would merit His grace so sure.

I deserve not to His presence be led,

I, who helped drive those nails by which He bled

By my evil acts, and yet, am I set free

To return to Him and dwell most happily.

He, the Savior, who deserved much better still

Gave up Himself for me of His own holy will.

That man, nay, God, sunk beneath the weighty load,

Descended to the dark abyss, and did it for my soul. 

I cannot fathom it; I cannot understand,

But that of great love He did it that sin and death have an end.  

Merciful God

Oh, merciful God who delivers me

From darkened depths of agony,

I seek from Thee thy holy grace,

Which brought me before Thy holy face.

I walked in darkness in primal years

And forgot Thee oft, but now in tears,

Thy aid I ask, Thy love to feel,

And with Thy will, my wounded soul to heal.

Like the parapet, Thy presence stays.

Thou wilt guide me all of my days.

From the devil's hold please set me forever free.

Oh, blessed Savior, stay, and rescue me.